Distant Early Warning
by XSpaRkieX
Summary: A story of a futuristic world of forced global unity and opression, and the two young 'Hostesses' that attempt to find or create a better world. No form romance as of yet, they're just the two central characters.
1. Chapter 1

This is just a little dystopic thing I've had playing in my head for a bit, and thought I'd try it out.

End Note

_2019, Neo-Asian Province, J-Section, City 4_.

"Fucking bastard."

Tatsuki Arisawa elbowed her way into the brightly lit ladies room of the 'Hostess Bar'. She knew it was a technical term for 'Whore House', but she refused to believe that she, and so many girls like her, had been pushed down that low. She hoisted herself onto the marble counter, and pulled out a cigarette. Although sales to minors were still illegal by the law of The Party, Renji was perfectly able to get her anything.

At the age of sixteen, Tatsuki had been through a rougher life than most, helped through it only by Ichigo Kurosaki, a high-ranking member of the Outer Circle. The Outer Circle dealt mostly in public relations and human affairs, while the Inner Circle ran the entire world, through representatives of all Provinces.

"LET ME GO!!!!"

Tatsuki looked up as a young girl, probably no older than her, was shoved into the room by a rather drunk looking man. The girl's bright orange hair was thrown wildly about as she thrashed, trying to escape the brutish 'customer'.

"Come on baby," he slurred, his eyes alight with sinister perversion, "It's why yer here!"

That was the final straw. Tatsuki cared little for sticking her neck out, but there was more to people than sex organs that moved.

"Hey, asshole!"

The drunk turned his head, only to have Tatsuki ram her closed fist vertically under his chin. The four-inch handle, partially sticking out of her hand, lodged right in the soft patch of flesh behind the chin. Tatsuki pressed the small button, and the equally long blade sprung out, impaling the man's brain, killing him instantly.

The girl screamed as Tatsuki ripped the blade out, showering the room with warm blood. Tatsuki wiped off the knife, and slid the blade back into the handle, to be used again at another time. She then turned, and slowly approached the frightened girl, who pressed herself deeper into the wall with every step she took.

Tatsuki picked up her unlit cigarette, forgotten till now, and lit it, offering it to the girl. She accepted it shakily, and took a small drag. Instantly, she began to cough violently, and Tatsuki took it back.

"Obviously not a smoker. You don't find many like you in this business."

"N-n-no I-I just started tonight."

The numbers tattooed on the girl's arm were jet black and fresh, unlike Tatsuki's, which were faded, almost grey, with age. She'd been in this line of work since she was 12.

"1365526, you?"

"W-what?"

"Your numbers," said Tatsuki, raising her forearm, "what are they?"

"O-oh ummm…" the girl looked at her own arm for a moment, "6107354."

"You'd better memorize those," Tatsuki advised, "They're the way they'll address you from now on."

"B-b-but…" The girl looked as if she were going to cry, "I don't WANT to be a number!"

"Relax; I'll still call you by your name, and so will a lot of people."

"Orihime. Orihime Inoue."

"Tatsuki Arisawa."

Orihime was still horribly shaken by the act Tatsuki had committed. "Y-you killed him!"

"Of course."

Tatsuki took the next several minutes to explain the workings of the Hostess Bar. It was a place for men (and women) with high social standing to go. They had scotch, banned in all Provinces, promiscuous sex, also strictly forbidden, and hallucinogenic drugs. All of these things were very hard to come by, but the club's manager Kisuke Urahara could get anything.

He also allowed the women who worked for him to deal with rapists and other undesirables any way they wished, mostly to keep them happy, due to the lack of any real pay. The girls worked for food and shelter, making small amounts of money from tips. Al the money paid for food, drinks, women, drugs, and general admission, went straight into Urahara's pocket.

"Why does The Party let all this go on?" Orihime inquired, "Shouldn't they have raided this place by now?"

"Take a look at some of our more prestigious regulars."

"That," She said gesturing to a rather short man with white hair, drinking scotch while a cigar burning in his ashtray, "Is Toshiro Hitsugaya, head tactical director for The Party's military unit here in The J-Section." Hitsugaya raised the cigar to his mouth, and took a long drag, exhaling the smoke calmly.

"Over there," Tatsuki pointed to a tall, dark-haired man, women fawning over him, "Is Byakuya Kuchiki, representative of the Asian Provinces." Kuchiki had a faraway look in his eyes, and didn't even react to the many beautiful women around his. He was quite obviously under the effects of LSD at the moment.

"Those two," she directed her new friend towards two men, one dark-haired, the other sharing Hitsugaya's hair, "Are Shunsui Kyoraku and Jushiro Ukitake. They run commerce." The two men were clearly drunk, and were practically falling onto the women surrounding them.

"The only reason they'd have to come here is my best customer." Tatsuki began leading Orihime over to a darkened corner where a muscular, blue-haired man with wild eyes sat alone.

"Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, the primary leader in the Anti-Party movement. He's responsible for the deaths of at least five prominent Party members, and several unknowns. If they stormed the place, they'd have a slim chance of catching him, but even if they did, not only would four Party members have to be arrested, but the reputation of The Party would be completely crushed."

"Why only a slim chance?"

"He's on X-23, a performance enhancer for officers in the military. Grimmjow buys it from Renji, and I've got no clue where Renji gets it. The stuff boosts your strength, speed, stamina, and urge to fight. Kenpachi Zaraki's on the stuff. Listen, meet me tomorrow afternoon, and I'll take you to see Renji. He'll get you something to protect yourself.

Note

This is another experiment with both my writing style, and what readers generally like. It may seem very rushed, but that's only because I didn't want to put to much effort into something I may abandon. Constructive criticism and ideas for possible continuation of the story are welcomed.


	2. Chapter 2

The apartment used by contraband dealer Renji Abari was located in the worst part of the Delta Area; essentially, the slums. Renji chose this particular place because of its close proximity to the Hostess Bar, where most of his clients frequently were located, and because The Party rarely stuck its neck into the Delta Area.

Tatsuki and Orihime must have received two dozen 'job offers' before they reached room 12, the location of Renji. As she opened the door, Tatsuki saw her old friend pop two pills, most likely hallucinogenic, into his mouth. As usual, the room was scattered with illegal materials; knives, firearms, drugs, liquor, X-23, and several things she couldn't name.

"So," muttered Renji, running his fingers through his oddly styled hair, "what'll it be this time Tatsuki? Upgrading to a gun maybe? I'd hate to see that pretty face mauled in a knife fight."

Tatsuki took her knife out of its hiding place and set it on a table, "Sharpening and oiling for me, but this one needs something." Orihime was trying desperately to hide from Renji as he appraised her.

"I wouldn't recommend a knife for her," he said rummaging through a pile of guns, "and a large gun might be too much for her to handle," he seemed to have found what he was looking for, as he turned back to the two girls, "but I've got just the thing she needs!"

Renji had produced a small handgun, just barely larger than his hand. He began to run through its specifics, seemingly stressing how little kick it had, but how much power it maintained. Most of it Orihime didn't understand, and Tatsuki knew was marketing bullshit. Renji was reliable, his products weren't. She'd seen him sabotaging guns so that the buyer would have to come back for repairs.

"Look, just give her something that fucking works!" Tatsuki rarely found herself in the mood for Renji's self-serving nature.

"Alright," Renji held up his hands, letting the small gun drop to the floor, "She can have one of my new arrivals."

Very few people knew exactly where Renji's 'new arrivals' came from, and one of them was Tatsuki. Renji raided Party armories, took guns from dead Peace Officers, and got imports from smugglers. She had come with Renji on one of his raids, and had met Grimmjow there. Since then, he had come to the Bar with increasing frequency.

"Take it." Renji dropped a handgun on the filthy bed, and jerked his head in its general direction.

"I-I…" Orihime stared at the gun, lying standing out amongst the various contraband on the bed, "I CAN'T!"

Renji slammed his hand hard over her mouth, sending her into the wall. His eyes were darting about and glazed over. The drugs were beginning to take hold. Tatsuki picked up the bottle he had taken the pills from.

'_Cresskin.'_ Tatsuki thought, _'Shit.'_

Cresskin was a fast-acting hallucinogenic, and a powerful one at that. It had about approximately 20 times the power of LSD, and lasted far longer. Soon, Renji would be naked on the floor, spewing nonsense while trying desperately to keep the universe from turning inward. Afterward would come about four hours of reliving his worst memories, and experiencing the worst introspective terror imaginable. However, if his psyche could survive that, he'd get to the reason people took the drug; the ethereal experience. Renji would feel as if he was no longer a part of reality, but a God, and for the time that the feeling lasted, all would be euphoria.

Tatsuki grabbed the gun, and pulled Renji off the struggling Orihime. Renji fell back, and began to sweat, tearing off his shirt to get cool.

_That Evening_

Tatsuki was worried about Orihime. She hadn't had any time to practice using the gun, and even if she had, she might not be able to bring herself to use it when it counted. She was on the other side of the room, surrounded by over half the men in the club, looking monumentally embarrassed. She was being bought drinks, most of which she declined, and some were offering drugs. Hitsugaya had punched out the last man who'd been inappropriate with her, and still had his eyes on the reverse-harem.

Tatsuki had always liked Hitsugaya because of his calm nature compared to the rest of the clientele. Most people came to unleash the wild sides that had to be restrained in the outside world, and therefore became uncontrollable, drug-addled, sexual maniacs. Hitsugaya kept the cold dignity that he had in his work, and usually kept to himself, sipping quality alcohol, and treating everyone very politely.

Tatsuki heard the door open, and turned to see greet the new guest. Grimmjow was back again. Usually there were a few days between his visits, mostly due to his wanted status, but recently he'd been coming more and more frequently. As usual, he refused all but Tatsuki, and gave her attention that should have been devoted to keeping a low profile. Even though there would never be a raid on Urahara's place, there was always the danger of a few decent fighters with oversized balls and empty pockets wanting a reward.

Hitsugaya gave a curt nod to the man, who, if he had met him outside the Bar, he would have arrested.


End file.
